The Writing Dead

Hello, welcome to this blog! I write imagines about the characters in the amazing AMC's The Walking Dead, I hope you enjoy them! You request and I write. Masterlist

[thewritterdead]

Hiya! Could you write an imagine a pre- apocalypse Daryl Dixon where your both in high school and your like the most popular girl in school (like your the team captain on your cheer team, all the boys want you and all the girls wanna be kinda thing) and your dating the most popular boy in your school but your sleeping with Daryl behind his back please! Smut please if you do it ♥️

Ohhhhhh! This is so awesome! Sure, I'll write it 💕

[thewritterdead]

Hair dye.

hi! could you write an imagine with daryl where he find some dyeing for hair and gave it to the reader (you can choose the color) because he knows that before the apocalypse she used to dyed it, and it's all really fluff? thanks!

(A/N): This may be kind of inaccurate, I’ve never dyed my hair —well, I did once but it was with crepe paper (lol ikr wtf)— but I watched some tutorials on youtube, and this seems to be pretty much what happens... Also, I’m sorry that the titles have been so lame lately (i mean, they’ve always been, but i think they’re worse now) i have like no creativity lol. Still, I hope you like it! 💕

You arrived at the prison with one single backpack hanging from your shoulders, and you arrived at Alexandria with that same backpack. When the outbreak started, you grabbed everything you thought you might need and tucked it all inside a red backpack that had now lost its colour and gained a lot of gashes.

No one ever knew what you carried inside, you always kept it under your bed and no one dared to even go near it. Except Daryl Dixon.

One day, he wanted to borrow one of your knives. It was a very fine knife that you had snatched from a well-dressed walker, it was sharp and got the job done in milliseconds. Daryl went into your room and you weren’t there, but your backpack was. It was sitting on your bed, instead of under it —as usual— so he felt really curious about it. He wondered if your knife was in there, so he pulled the zipper open.

He reached inside and the first thing he grabbed was a book. He watched the cover, and then he opened it, scanning through the pages. He was starting to wonder why it had no pictures in it, when a little piece of paper fell, and he picked it up. It was a polaroid picture, it was you and your family at the beach, having fun and smiling for the picture. Daryl noticed something about it, you looked different, but the quality of the picture wasn’t good enough for him to notice it right away. He took the picture closer to his face and squinted his eyes.

“What are you doing?” you asked from the doorway. He dropped the picture in surprise.

“You had blue hair?” he turned around and asked you in an amused voice. You saw the picture on the floor and rolled your eyes.

“Shut up,” you said when you heard him laughing. You picked up the picture and looked at it. “I miss it, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was pretty, wasn’t it?” you showed him the picture again.

“I guess,” he shrugged. “Can I borrow your knife?”

You put the picture back inside your backpack and closed it, then you threw it under the bed, where it was supposed to be.

“Where are you going?” you asked, as you opened the drawer of your nightstand.

“You know, making the rounds with Aaron, but he wants to check some of the old buildings we haven’t checked,” he grabbed the knife you were handing to him. “It’s always good to have one of these in your pocket, you know?”

“Yeah, well, take care of it,” you said.

“Will do, Smurfette,” he said and walked away.

“Lame!” you yelled as he walked out of your room.

—

Daryl got in the car with Aaron and they drove off towards the buildings that Aaron wanted to check. They were old and overrun by walkers, so they couldn’t quite see what the building used to be in better days.

“Let’s go inside,” Aaron said as he pulled over.

“There’s a lot of ‘em,” Daryl told him, nodding his head at the walkers that where roaming around the building. “We should take ‘em down from here.”

“Don’t you think the sound of the guns will call for more?”

“Who said anything about guns?” Daryl pulled out his crossbow and opened the door. He aimed at the walkers and an arrow pierced their rotting heads.

“What happens when you run out of arrows?” Aaron asked him.

“Then we’ll go inside,” he said and shot another arrow.

Daryl took his last arrow and it went through a walker’s head, right between the eyes.

“Let’s go,” he said and Aaron followed him.

They went inside, carefully, but noticed that there weren’t many walkers left. Just a couple of them, which Aaron took down.

“I think it’s a…” Aaron looked around.

“Drugstore,” Daryl grabbed a bag he found on the floor and started taking every single thing he found. They had to take everything, specially if you had to share half of it with the Saviours.

They left most of the shelves empty, the ones that had medicines and all. But Daryl saw the ‘Hair products’ sign hanging at the back, and that one was still full. He ignored the sounds of walkers back there and ran towards it.

“Daryl, let’s go!” Aaron said in a hushed roar.

Daryl was about to grab one of the hair dye boxes when six walkers pushed the shelf down from the other side. It fell over Daryl and he couldn’t push it off, it was too heavy.

The growling of walkers surrounded him as they fell to their knees and tried to bite him. He reached for your knife and killed one of them, but the others kept coming at him.

Aaron ran towards the scene and shot them. Their bodies fell over Daryl.  He pulled the shelf off as Daryl got out from under it.

Daryl saw some of the boxes scattered on the ground, most of them had been crushed by the shelf and the others were still under it, so he took one of the few that he could reach.

“What the hell, man?” Aaron asked between breaths as he got on his feet.

“Thanks for that,” Daryl said and stood up from the ground.

“Why did you come back here? What the hell is that?” he asked as he pointed at the box that Daryl was holding.

“Just shit, man, let’s get outta here,” he waved him off, but before he could walk away, Aaron grabbed his hand. He looked at the box and then at Daryl.

“Oh, okay, I’m sure it will look good on you” he nodded and started walking back to the exit.

“It’s not for me,” he said, but Aaron was already too far to hear.

—

It was already dark when they arrived at the safe zone. Daryl gave his bag to Aaron so he could leave it at the pantry, and he headed back home.

He knocked on your door, even thought it was open, and he saw you sitting on your bed, reading your book.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, you’re back!” you closed your book and left it on your nightstand. “I want my knife back.”

He chuckled and gave it to you after wiping the blood off on his clothes.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Sure,” you grabbed it and put it back on your nightstand.

“I got something for you,” he told you.

“What is it?”

He gave you the box. “Sorry, they didn’t have your tone.”

You laughed as you looked at the box. It was pink hair dye.

“Thanks, Daryl,” you said.

“I just thought you looked pretty, why don’t you dye it again?”

“Sure, that would be cool,” you said. Daryl nodded and started walking away. “Where are you going?”

“Uh, well—”

“Aren’t you gonna help me dye it?”

“Me?” he scowled.

“Well, it was your idea!”

“Alright,” he shrugged and went back inside.

You walked to the bathroom as you read the instructions, and Daryl pretended to be listening carefully as he pulled random things out of the box, wondering what they where for.

“Why is this shit all sticky?” he asked with a grimace.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to touch that,” you said. “That’s why there are gloves inside.”

Daryl wiped whatever he had touched on his vest and shook his hand to get rid of it.

You leaned over the sink and let water run through your hair, that had been the first step in the instructions.

“Now, mix those two and shake the container,” you told Daryl, pointing at the bottles that he had pulled out of the packaging.

He opened one of the bottles, the one with the dye, and smelled it. He pulled it away and grimaced.

“Smells like shit,” he said.

“Why would you even smell it?” you laughed at his face.

He proceeded to do as you had said, and handed you the final product.

“But…” you didn’t grab the bottle he was giving you. “I can’t really see my head from behind, so I won’t know what parts I’m not covering. Could you do it?”

You lied, all you wanted was Daryl to touch your hair and stay there with you.

He scowled, and you knew you were hurting his manhood by asking him that.

“No,” he said.

“Please?” you smiled sweetly, and he gave you an exasperated look. “Pretty please?”

He looked at you for a moment, picturing how you would look with a new hair colour, and that was something he couldn’t miss.

“Alright,” he gave in.

Daryl squeezed the bottle and the dye hit you so harshly that some of it went through your hair and hit your neck.

“Uh, sorry,” he said as he wiped it off your neck and roughly smeared it on your scalp, pulling your hair —and face— back.

“Did you put the gloves on?” you asked.

“What gloves?”

“The ones that came in the package,” you chuckled, knowing he had not put the gloves on.

“Why? Is this toxic or something?”

“I don’t think so, but your hands are gonna be pink for like a week.”

“Oh,” he looked down at his hands. “Fuck.”

Daryl finished spreading the dye on your hair, and your ears, and some on your neck.

“Now, we have to wait like half an hour until it sets,” you said, looking at yourself on the mirror.

Daryl rushed to the sink and pushed you to the side; he rinsed his hands, and pink water went down the drain, but his hands were still pink.

“It’s not coming off!”

“I told you to wear the gloves!”

“No, you didn’t! You told me until I had all this pink shit on my hands!” he kept trying to scrape the dye off. “Fuck, I even scratched my goddamn nose!”

He was right, he had a pink spot on his nose.

Half an hour went by quickly, you were having too much fun watching Daryl desperately trying to get his hands back to their original colour.

“So, all we have to do now is rinse it, and I’ll have pink hair!” you said with excitement, and even if Daryl wasn’t happy about his pink hands and nose, he was excited about your hair as well.

You leaned over the sink again and let the water wash off the dye, while Daryl leaned on the doorway, waiting for the results.

“So… How do I look?” you turned around to face Daryl. “It’s… Really pink,” was all he said. You were a little disappointed at his response.

“I know, but how do I look?”

“You look…” he searched for the word to say. He wanted to say ‘gorgeous’, or ‘stunning’, or even a classic ‘beautiful’, but he almost shook his head at the mere thought of saying that to your face. “Pretty.”

He felt like his face was burning from saying that, his cheeks felt on fire.

You smiled, and felt like you were blushing yourself.

He was about to walk out of the bathroom, when you went to him and got on your toes, you placed your hands on his shoulders and pecked the pink spot on his nose.

“Thanks,” you smiled and walked away.

Daryl was still standing at the doorway, so he could see himself in the mirror. Now he was certain that his face was red, and that way his nose didn’t look so pink. He smiled faintly, remembering what had just happened. Daryl went back to his room, knowing that risking his life for that little box of hair dye had definitely worth it.

[thewritterdead]

Yay you're back! Could you make something where the reader is a teen (15-16) and she lives with a pack of diverse animals and the group found her and they are like "Woah"

Yay! :) haha, sure, that sounds cool! 💕

[thewritterdead]

Hi! 😃 Could you make an imagine where the reader is a teen and she is pregnant and with her boyfriend, they go to Alexandria and they become friends with Carl? Like they become the "Golden Trio" of the city?

Aaw, sure! 💕

[thewritterdead]

Hiii! Could I get one with Daryl based on the song "Loco Enamorado" by Abraham Mateo, "Una Lady Como Tu" by Manuel Turizo and "Besame" by Valentino ft. Manuel Turizo. Like a mix between them? I know it's in spanish but the lyrics are everything and will go perfectly with Daryl🙈❤️

Claro! No las he escuchado, pero lo haré pronto! 💕

[thewritterdead]

New home.

Could you do one about the reader who a Alexandrian (but still knows how to survive) and lives with her abusive mother (unknown to the other residence). When the group arrives Maggie and Glenn take a mutual interest in the reader because of her shy but kind nature, eventually when it’s found out that the reader is getting beat she is taking in by Maggie and Glenn. I know it’s like the Pete and Enid story’s but I like them and like to see this played out.

TW: domestic violence

Hope you like this! 💕

Aaron arrived at the community with a new group of people. Their clothes were ripped, and their skin was covered in dirt, you knew they had spent too much time out there. They were also so different from each other, they didn’t look like they were family, which meant they had lost theirs. Seeing them reminded you of the day you arrived at Alexandria. Aaron had found you, but not soon enough; your father had been killed by those flesh-eating things while he was trying to protect you, and you were left with your mom, which wasn’t good.

You loved your mom and all, but she hurt you, really bad. She had fallen into a state of anger and sadness when your dad died, and she took it out on you. She was old and didn’t look too strong, but she could really hurt you when she threw things at you or beat you with anything she could reach for.

You shook your head and let go of a deep breath, pulling down the sleeves of your sweater, concealing your arms that had been beaten the night before.

Aaron let the new people enter one by one, and you showed them to Deanna’s office. You worked with Deanna everyday, helping her run that place, she said that once she’s gone you’re the one who has to take over, because her sons aren’t fit for the job.

She interviewed the first one to enter, and you could hear what they said. The other residents looked scared of them, you saw them staring at them from their houses, peeking through the windows. But the didn’t sound like bad people to you, more like damaged. They spent too much time out there and surely lost a lot of people, after all.

Deanna finished with the first one and asked you to let someone else in. You looked at the man who came out of her office; he was tall and very handsome, but he was all dirty and had a menacing look on his face. You let a woman in, she looked much nicer than him, even if she carried a sword on her back.

They went in, one by one, and you just stood at the door outside. You took a quick look at them —because you didn’t want to piss them off— and saw that two of them were holding hands. A guy and a girl, they looked young and they certainly looked in love. She caught you looking at them, and she smiled. It was a warm smile, and it looked genuine. The door opened and Deanna asked you to let someone else in, so you called the guy.

You heard the interview, he wanted to stay and he wanted it to work. After Deanna was done with them, she called you into her office.

“So, how did it go?” you asked her, and she grinned at you.

“Yeah, right. As if I didn’t know you heard the whole thing,” she chuckled. “They’re going to stay, and I’m going to give them jobs. Help me figure this out.”

She was about to show you the videos she filmed, but it wasn’t necessary because you had, in fact, heard the whole thing, so you didn’t want to waste time watching them.

“The first man, Rick Grimes, he used to be a deputy sheriff,” she said.

“Oh, right. He looks like one,” you nodded, remembering that man.

“I know, right? What is it, the boots?”

“I think it’s the way he stands,” you said.

“Yeah, probably. So, what is he gonna be now?”

“Maybe the same,” you said, and she gave you a funny look. “I mean, if we’re trying to build a civilization here, in which there are bound to be problems, then we should have someone to deal with them.”

“You’re right,” she nodded, and took out a notebook in which she wrote: RICK GRIMES - SHERIFF. “Sheriff it is. Now, the second person you let in. The woman with the sword?”

You were thinking, but you haven’t heard her interview that well, because you were looking at the couple.

“I think she’d work well with Rick,” Deanna said, and wrote something on her little notebook.

“Okay. The guy that went in next?” you meant the one who had been holding hands with the girl. “He looks strong, doesn’t he? Maybe he could work with Aiden.”

“Sounds about right. Although, I don’t know how that’s gonna go. Aiden can be a bit of a jerk with the new people, you know?”

You chuckled at how she spoke about her son, but she was right.

“And his girlfriend?” you asked, again talking about the couple.

“Oh,” she grinned. “You noticed that. I wasn’t sure they were together.”

“I think she should work here,” you told her, and she gave you a funny look again.

“Why?”

“Because she’s smart, and she looks nice,” you said, and she chuckled.

“My dear, I think she’d need a little more than that to work here,” she said.

“I work here, and I’m not that special,” you laughed.

“Yes, but you—” she stopped abruptly, and made a pause. “All right, I think she could work here.”

—

The next morning, you ran to Deanna’s house before your mom woke up. She was specially cranky when she woke up in the mornings, and you didn’t want to be there when that happened.

When you arrived at her house, you noticed that the new girl was already there, in Deanna’s office.

“Good, you’re here,” Deanna told you and gestured for you to come in. “Let’s talk about the expansion.”

You went inside and sat on the couch, next to Deanna.

“I think before we think about that, we should do something about the walls. They don’t look strong enough to take a large herd of walkers,” she said. Deanna looked at her for a moment, thinking about what she said.

“She’s right,” you murmured at Deanna, who nodded as she looked at the girl.

“Yes, she’s right. Nice observation, Maggie. It’s been a long time since I saw those walls from outside, so I’ll have to trust you in this one.”

Maggie smiled, clearly feeling proud about contributing on her first day of work.

“Great” If you’ll excuse me, I have to talk about it to Reg, I’ll be back in a minute,” Deanna stood up with her notebook, in which she had been writing something, and left the room.

“Reg?” Maggie asked once you were alone.

“Her husband, he’s an architect,” you answered as you tapped your fingers nervously on your knee. You were a little shy, and being a lone with a stranger made you a little nervous.

“Oh, I see,” she nodded.

“So, how are you getting on?” you asked, but regretted it immediately. Your voice shook slightly, but you really wanted to know if everything was okay. You knew that it was hard arriving at a new community, with new people who gave you strange looks just because you had mud in your face and blood in your clothes.

“Good, everything’s going well,” she said. You nodded and lowered your head, nodding along as you stared at the ground.

Maggie smiled, even if you couldn’t see her. She was happy that you asked, she was really starting to like you. You were nicer than the other residents that stared at them judgmentally and tried to stay away from them.

Deanna came back with her husband and you all discussed the plans for reinforcing the walls, and then the expansion.

At dinner time, Maggie went home. You stayed for dinner at Deanna’s because she didn’t want you to go back home to your mom. She was the only one who knew about the violence you had to endure in your house.

It was late and you had to go home. When you arrived at your house, all the lights were off, which probably meant that your mom didn’t get out of bed in the whole day.

You started walking upstairs, but you stopped when you heard her voice.

“Where were you?” she asked, her voice was wobbly, she had been crying and drinking something she probably stole from the pantry.

“At Deanna’s, you know I work with her,” you answered nervously.

“But it’s late. You don’t even care if I eat or not?” she was aggressive that night. She didn’t hit you everyday, but you had to live everyday with the fear that she would, you never knew when it was coming, but that night it felt a lot like she would.

“S-sorry, I—”

“Just shut up already,” she said and threw the bottle she had been drinking from. It hit your face, the cold and hard glass smacked your cheekbone harshly, and then it shattered on the ground. It hurt, and you wanted to cry, but you knew that would only make her angrier.

You ran upstairs and locked yourself in your room. You broke down, crying, and you covered your face with your hands, but it hurt when you touched your cheek, so you just sobbed in silence. You wondered if it would ever end, if she would ever stop hurting you. You didn’t know the answer, and thinking about it only made you feel worse, so you laid in bed and hoped for the morning to come faster.

—

Before leaving for work the next morning, you took a look in the mirror. Your cheek was swollen and violet, you wished you had some makeup to cover it up, but all you could do was put some ice on it and hope that no one would ask questions.

“Ah, you’re leaving again,” your mom said from the couch. She had a new bottle in her hand. You flinched when you looked at it, it was much bigger than the last one, so you hope she wouldn’t throw this one at your face.

You didn’t answer, you just stood by the door.

“Come here,” she said. You swallowed hard and slowly made your way towards her. You knelt next to her and she cupped your face with her hands. “Don’t you care about your mother? You just go for hours, and you don’t give a shit about me.”

You felt guilty, you knew that’s just what she wanted, but you couldn’t help it.

“I am your mother, not that Deanna bitch,” she spat out.

“I’m late for work,” you whispered.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Just go, I don’t even want you here, anyway.”

That hurt, even worse than your cheek, but you didn’t want to arrive at Deanna’s house with misty eyes, so you tried to forget about it.

You cleared your throat as you went inside.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” you said. Deanna and Maggie looked at you, and noticed your swollen cheek. Maggie was surprised, but Deanna wasn’t.

“It’s okay, kid, just come here,” she turned back to the plans they had been working on before you arrived.

You sat next to her, as always, and Maggie kept looking at you.

“What happened?” she asked you. You turned to look at Deanna, who was uncomfortable by the question, she didn’t want everyone to know about your mom, specially since she had tried to help you but it had been your decision to stay with her.

“Last night, at dinner, I had a glass of wine. When I got home I was a little dizzy, and I hit my face with the door,” you chuckled nervously, trying to laugh at how clumsy you had been in your little story.

“You gotta be more careful, dear,” Deanna said, supporting your lie, and patted your knee softly.

Maggie nodded, she believed you, she had no reason not to, but she still didn’t think a door could hit that hard to leave that kind of bruise.

You went on with the plans for the walls, but you couldn’t take what your mom said off of your mind. It distracted you from your job, no matter how hard you tried to concentrate.

“Then maybe we would need the inventory book, I can’t remember how many we have left,” Deanna said, but you hadn’t been listening to what they were talking about. “Could you bring it, (Y/N)?”

“Huh?” you raised your eyebrows.

“The inventory book, it’s in the living room’s bookshelf,” she said, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll bring it,” you got off the couch and headed towards the living room.

You were alone at last, and you felt like you could release some of the tension you had been holding since you arrived. You didn’t like lying, specially to someone as nice and kind as Maggie had been with you, but you couldn’t tell her about what your mom did to you.

The inventory book was on the highest shelf, so you had to get on your toes to reach it. As you reached out for it, your shirt lifted and exposed your back.

“Oh, my God,” you heard and immediately turned around. The inventory book fell to the ground, your hands were busy pulling your shirt down.

You found Maggie with her hands over her mouth. She had seen all the past bruises and scars in your back.

“What happened, (Y/N)?” she asked, concerned.

You opened your mouth, but no answer came out.

Maggie walked towards you and carefully wrapped her arms around you. She hugged you softly, but it was warm and nice. It reminded you of the days when your mom used to hug you instead of throwing things at you or beating you.

She left the room, but you stayed inside. You didn’t want to go back to work, specially now that Maggie already knew that there was something wrong. You suddenly missed that moment in which she had actually believed your lie.

Maggie went back to Deanna’s office, and she was angry.

“Have you seen the bruises on (Y/N)?” she asked suddenly, which took Deanna by surprise.

She sighed and nodded.

“How can you let that happen?” Maggie yelled at her. You could hear everything from the living room.

“I tried to put (Y/N) in another house, but she wanted to stay with her mother. What am I supposed to do? Exile her? She’s an old woman, she’s not strong enough to take care of herself!”

“Well, she’s certainly strong enough to hurt her like that, isn’t she?”

Deanna sighed.

“I gave her this job so she could stay away from her as long as possible, but there’s nothing else I could do,” Deanna told her with a defeated voice. She was also worried about you, and she hated when you arrived at her house with new injuries, but she knew you didn’t like talking about that.

“I can, and I will,” Maggie said.

“What are you gonna do?” Deanna scowled.

“She can live with me and my husband.”

Deanna shook her head. “I don’t think her mother would like that.”

“I don’t care what her mother likes, for all I know, all she likes is beating the hell out of her daughter!” Maggie was angry, really angry, and you didn’t even know why, she barely knew you.

You had been listening the whole time, Deanna knew you usually did that, so she knew you were out there.

“Come in, (Y/N)” she said, and you slowly opened the door.

“Did you hear everything?” Maggie asked you. You nodded. “What do you think?”

You didn’t know what to think about it. When Maggie was talking about it, you were happy for a moment, but it all faded away when you thought about your mom. She was old and weak, and you didn’t want to leave her alone, but you didn’t know how much more you could take.  

“You don’t have to decide right now. You could come to have dinner with us, and then you can make a decision. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said. Maggie smiled.

You turned to look at Deanna, and she had a look of relief in her face. She didn’t know how it would turn out, but for a moment, she was happy that Maggie wanted to help you.

—

After work, you went to Maggie’s place. She had gotten a new house with her husband, you remembered she had talked about it with Deanna the day before.

When you went in, Maggie’s husband was already setting up the table.

“Hey, baby,” he said when he heard the door opening.

“Hey,” Maggie closed the door after you walked in. “We have company tonight.”

He lifted his gaze and looked at you. He smiled and nodded.

“I’ll put another set, then,” he grabbed another napkin and set of cutlery.

“What did you make tonight?” Maggie asked as she sat on one of the chairs, and pulled another one for you.

“Nothing. Carol brought some stew,” he placed a plate in front of you and then another one at Maggie’s spot.

“Oh, looks great,” she said.

He sat on the chair once everyone had a plate with stew in it.

“So, (Y/N), right?” he asked you gently.

You nodded and took a spoonful of stew into your mouth.

“Maggie told me about you yesterday, how’s everything going at work?”

“We’re making plans for the reinforcement of the walls, and then we’re going to talk about the expansion,” you told him, and he seemed impressed.

“Wow, then it’s serious,” he looked at Maggie. She nodded and smiled. You wondered what they were thinking about, but you figured that he meant that she was serious about staying.

“And how was your day, Glenn?” Maggie asked him.

“Aiden’s a jerk,” he said. “But I think I can handle him.”

Maggie chuckled, and you did too, you knew Aiden was indeed a jerk.

The night went on peacefully and quite nicely, you really liked being with them. They were good people, and you could see yourself living with them.

When you were done with dinner, you asked if you could go home already, because your mom would be worried. Maggie pressed her lips tightly, feeling somewhat sorry for the place you had to go back to.

“All right, I’ll walk you home,” she stood up, and you did too. You were walking towards the door, when Maggie said something else. “(Y/N), could you give us a minute, please?”

“Sure, I’ll wait outside.”

“I asked her to move in with us,” Maggie told Glenn, you could barely hear.

“Why?”

“Glenn, you should see her back. It’s covered in bruises,” she told him. “And did you see her cheek?”

“Her parents?” Glenn asked, concerned.

“Just her mom.”

There was a silent moment.

“What did she say?” he asked.

“I told her to come to dinner and then she could decide, but I’m telling you now, just in case she says yes,” Maggie told him. “Are you okay with it?”

“Mhm?” you could hear that he had been thinking and Maggie’s question pulled him out of his thoughts. “Yeah, of course. She’s a really nice girl.”

“Okay,” Maggie said happily, and you could hear a kiss.

“Wait, Maggie,” Glenn said. “Why are you doing this?”

“What?”

“I mean, taking her in would make her, kind of, our responsibility,” he told her. “Why are you acting like a mom?”

“Well…” she sighed. “Lately, I’ve been having this maternal instinct, you know?”

“Really? Why?”

“I’m pregnant,” she confessed. For a moment, Glenn was silent.

“Oh, my God! Are you serious?” he said finally, and you could hear him laughing.

“Yeah!”

They celebrated for a moment, and then Maggie went outside.

“Hey, sorry for keeping you waiting,” she said.

“It’s okay,” you smiled.

She started walking down the porch steps, but you called her name before she could keep walking. She turned around and saw you standing there, fiddling with your fingers.

“Yeah?”

“I want to stay with you,” you said.

Maggie smiled widely and walked back to you. She hugged you tightly, but you jolted because the bruises still hurt.

“Oh, sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay,” you shook your head slightly.

She grabbed the doorknob and opened the door again.

“Welcome home.”

[thewritterdead]

Bitchy.

Hi :) I would like to request an imagine where Daryl and the reader have been dating since the prison, but the reader is like really really bitchy (she loves Daryl tho) but Daryl have always been okay with that until she said something really bad to him when they had an argument and it hurt Daryl so he decides to break up with her

I named this “Bitchy” because that’s the word the person who requested this used -and I seriously lack creativity- but if it’s considered foul language, then:

TW: foul language

I hope you like this!💕

Negan had taken Daryl after murdering Glenn and Abraham, and you had to go back home without him, and that night you had to sleep alone.

You had been together since you were at the prison, and you loved him. Although, you rarely said it to him, and you regretted not saying it to him that night before they took him.

The things at Alexandria, changed drastically since Negan’s men arrived and took whatever they wanted, even if they claimed it was only half.

Weeks went by and you missed Daryl every single day of them.

The day came when Rick and Michonne said that they couldn’t take it any longer, and they had to fight back. You agreed for a moment, you didn’t care much about the stuff, you just wanted Daryl back. Rick knew that you needed help from other communities, friendly communities, such as the Hilltop.

When you arrived and they opened the gates, you saw Daryl there.

You couldn’t believe it was him, you stood in shock. When you saw Rick starting to make his way towards him, you rushed and ran towards Daryl. You wrapped your arms around him and sank your face in the crook of his neck.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you said repeatedly.

Daryl placed his face at the top of your head and smelled your hair. He spent his days at the Sanctuary missing the way you smelled, and the way you cussed whenever you were angry, and the way you arched an eyebrow whenever someone said something dumb. You were, in his own words, bitchy, but he loved you like that, he wouldn’t change a thing about you. Not like he could, anyway.

“I missed you,” he said. You raised your head and kissed him on the lips.

“All right, that’s enough, (Y/N). We have to talk,” Rick told you as he headed towards the main house.

“Oh, that’s right. Negan’s bitch wanted to talk,” you said with a sneerful tone.

“Hey,” Daryl gave you a warning look, but he chuckled too. Rick was his best friend and he never liked it when you said mean things about him, and you never really had a problem with him, but you couldn’t help thinking that he could’ve handled Negan in a better way, not just kneeling to him and letting him slide his dick down his throat.

You walked into the house, and found Rick talking to Jesus and Gregory.

“If we unite to fight them, I’m sure we could win,” he said, and Jesus seemed to agree with him; but then again, he also agreed when you tried to kill the Saviours in their sleep, and that didn’t work out too well.

“No, that’s a no from me. You said you could handle it before, why should I believe you now?” Gregory pushed his blazer back and placed his hands on his hips.

You hated to admit it, but you agreed with him. There was no way you could defeat the Saviours, specially when they had more guns and people. You had agreed with Rick when he said that you had to fight the Saviours, but that was only because you missed Daryl, but he was right there, standing next to you, and under another light, fighting the Saviours did seem like a reckless idea.

“We can do this, we have to prepare ourselves, but this is something we have to do,” Rick insisted.

“No, sorry, no. This is my community, and you have no say in here. If you want to fight them and get killed, be my guest, but we’re staying out of it,” Gregory said. “Now, get out of my house.”

You had no other choice but to leave empty handed.

“Well, at least someone’s thinking straight,” you muttered as you walked out of the house.

“You agree with Gregory?” Daryl frowned. “You feel okay?”

You laughed. “Yeah.”

“I thought you hated him,” he said.

“I do, but he’s not wrong,” you told him. He didn’t say anything else, he just followed you into the cars you had brought.

Rick drove down the road, and he stopped at every building he saw to search for weapons to use against the Saviours. This time, he pulled over at a warehouse.

“All right, we need to find guns, bullets, dynamite. Anything. Let’s go!” Rick trotted inside.

“Just because we found dynamite once doesn’t mean we’ll find it everywhere,” you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon, let’s see what we find,” Daryl ignored what you said and headed towards the warehouse.

You looked everywhere, even in the pockets of the walkers you took down, but you didn’t find anything. Michonne was the only one who found something, and she only  got a couple of guns.

“Nothing,” you said as you let your shoulders fall.

“We gotta keep looking,” Rick started walking towards the car, but you didn’t want to keep wasting time.

“Why don’t we just go home, Rick?” you asked. He already knew you, so he sighed and turned around.

“Because we haven’t found enough weapons yet,” he answered.

“Then why don’t we just accept that we can’t beat the Saviours, and call it a day?”

“(Y/N)…” Daryl muttered and grabbed your hand, trying to get you to stop, but deep inside he knew you wouldn’t.

Rick was staring at you with a twinge of anger.

“No, seriously. We don’t have enough weapons, and even if we find more, we don’t have enough people. All you’re gonna achieve, is getting us all killed,” you told him.

“We have made a decision. You may disagree now, but most of us know that we have to fight, we can’t just keep giving him our stuff, the stuff we need to survive,” Rick said sternly. You knew he had the last word, and you hated it.

You grunted. “I hate these people,” you muttered under your breath. You didn’t really mean that, but you were angry, and you said a lot of things you didn’t mean when you were angry.

You heard a loud noise, and looked around. Everyone stayed together and ghosted their hands over the guns in their holsters.

You saw people hiding behind bushes, trees and abandoned vehicles, even behind the warehouse you had just walked out of.

Those people had weapons, a lot of them, and there were also a lot of them. Rick saw and opportunity, but you saw just another group you’d have to fight to protect what you had.

They took you to a place that smelled like a dumpster. It was surrounded by garbage and the people didn’t look much cleaner either.

You couldn’t keep yourself from grimacing, which earned you a few dirty looks from them too.

A woman stepped forward, she seemed like the leader since she was the only one who was speaking.

“We own your lives. Wanna buy them back?” she spoke slowly but menacingly. “Have anything?”

“Well, you have one of our people,” Rick said. “Gabriel. I wanna see him first, then we can talk.”

The woman nodded at another one and she disappeared between one of the mountains of garbage. She came back with Gabriel and another man who was watching him.

“Huh. I never noticed he was gone,” you muttered to yourself and smirked slightly. You didn’t like him very much, he had sold you out when you arrived at Alexandria, and even if that had been a long time ago and he had tried to redeem himself, you still didn’t quite accept him as a friend.

Daryl heard what you said and he looked at you. While he was in the Sanctuary, he had been so focused on the beautiful things he missed about you that he had forgotten how mean you could be with the people you didn’t like, and sometimes even with the people you loved, like him.

Rick talked to those people about the Saviours, how they took things from you and how they were the ones who owned your lives. He tried to convince them to join you in your fight, but they refused.

The leader made a signal and they took Gabriel back, they also started coming at you.

Rick punched the guy that was walking towards him with a weapon in his hands. As soon as you felt grubby hands on you, you started fighting. You hit the man that had grabbed you, and Daryl tried to take him off of you but there were people fighting him too.

“Stop!” Rick yelled, but no one obeyed.

“Let us go, or I will kill her!” Gabriel had grabbed a woman and had a blade against her throat. “The Saviours have other communities, they have things! Food, weapons, vehicles, fuel, anything you want, they have it.”

The leader was interested now, so she made a signal and the people backed off.

You brushed the dirt off your shoulders and grimaced again.

“If you fight with us, you will be rewarded,” Gabriel kept speaking. “More than you can imagine!”

“We want something now,” she told him.

“What do you want? Just tell us, we will get it for you! We’ll show you what we can do. Now!”

The leader took Rick to the top of a mountain of garbage. They were talking, but she suddenly threw him to the other side. All you could hear in that moment was the  thud of when Rick hit the ground.

“What did you do?” Michonne ran towards the pile of trash and searched for a gap to see Rick.

You stayed in the same place you had been, next to Daryl.

“See? It was stupid coming here, these people are fucking insane!” you said out loud, not caring if they heard you.

“I’m real tired of hearing you say that,” Daryl turned to you, and you could tell he was cross. “Are you on Negan’s side or something?”

You scoffed. “No, I’m just being realistic here. We’re not gonna win!”

“You don’t know that!” he yelled. “We need to fight!”

“No, we don’t,” you said with an arched eyebrow.

“Yes, we do. And we have to do it soon, before he notices that I left,”

“I’m pretty sure he already knows”

“Then it has to bee sooner. He said he’d kill us if I went back!

“Well, maybe you should’ve stayed there,” you blurted out.

Daryl stared at you, with a hurt look on his face. He remembered all the horrible things they did to him, how they even showed him a picture of Glenn’s brains splattered on the ground.

“So, what? I was supposed to stay in that shit-hole until he wanted to let me go? Or kill me?” he yelled.

“I don’t know, Daryl. Maybe you deserved it. You got Glenn killed,” you told him bluntly. You regretted saying that, but you were just so angry that you would’ve said anything. The pain in his eyes almost break your heart, but you couldn’t apologise, it was hard for you to swallow your pride and do that.

Everyone was staring at you, even the people who didn’t even know you. You walked part Daryl towards the other side of that pigsty and tried to see if Rick was doing okay on the other side. He was finally climbing up and he met again with the leader at the top.

“Guns. A lot. A lot,” she grinned. “And then we’ll fight your fight.”

Rick was relief, happy even, that there was finally a chance that you could defeat the Saviours.

Daryl sat on the way home in silence. He was looking out the window and thinking about what you said. He had thought that it was his fault everyday since that happened, but hearing it from your lips was a million times worse.

That night, once you arrived back at Alexandria, you went to your house. You were planning on talking to Daryl when he got home, but he never came.

You got out of the house, looking for him. You found him sitting on Rick’s porch, he was alone in the dark. You smiled at his silhouette, he looked exactly like he did the day you arrived, but his crossbow was missing.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” you told him as you stood in front of him. He didn’t lift his head to look at you.

“Don’t be, if you meant it,” he said with a hoarse voice. You felt terrible, but you didn’t want to say anything else, you knew that whatever you said would make him feel worse.

“Do you want to come home?” you asked and waved your hand at your house.

“No,” he said simply.

“Daryl, come on, I said I’m sorry. What do you want me to do?”

“This ain’t the first time,” he said.

“Well, you know me, I—”

“Yeah, I do,” he cut you off.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said today and for what I’ve said before, okay?” you said, but Daryl wasn’t sure you actually meant it.

“You can’t just say a half-ass sorry and think people will forget what you said,” he told you bluntly. “This ain’t the first time, and it won’t be the last.”

“Fine, I won’t speak ever again if you don’t want me to,” you said, irritated.

“Stop acting like a fucking kid,” Daryl stood up and faced you. “You’ve always been like this, saying shirt to hurt people, and I’m sure that’s just who you are or whatever, but I just thought that—”

He stopped abruptly.

“What?”

“That you wouldn’t hurt me,” he said finally. “Not like that.”

“Daryl, I love you,” you told him softly, hoping it would mean something to him.

“I know, I love you too. But I’m just sick of this, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, with tears almost falling from your eyes.

“You’ve said that before,” Daryl said harshly.

“Fine, whatever, I don’t even care,” you lied and stomped your way towards your house. But you did care, you cared so much about him that you hated yourself for hurting him like that. You didn’t even think that Glenn’s death was on him, you just wanted to win the argument.

You slammed the door shut and slid your back down it until your butt hit the floor. You broke down crying. You had hurt Daryl, and now you had lost him.

Daryl stayed at Rick’s porch, and he was crying too. What you said had hurt him, but nowhere near as much as breaking up with you had. He wanted to go back to you and swallow his pride. He preferred having you hurt him for the rest of his life rather than living without you.

When he was finally free and saw you at the Hilltop, he had promised himself that he would never lose you again. But he just had.

[thewritterdead]

Could you do one where the reader's having a romantic night with Daryl & they're about to have their first time but she gets distant cause she has self harm scars he doesn't know about & he comforts her by kissing them & there's a tender love scene?

Sure! That’s so sweet! 💕

[thewritterdead]

I was wondering if you could write one where the reader is in a relationship with Daryl but she's really insecure about her body, like her weight and stretch marks, but Daryl shows her how beautiful he thinks she is with a really tender love scene?

Aaaawwww, of course! 💕

[thewritterdead]

Most of the smut I've read with Daryl × Reader is rough and doesn't show a sensitive side to Daryl. I was hoping you could write one that's still hot, with them having passionate sex, but with Daryl being delicate and caring?

YES! I agree, I usually write him rough in smut, but like thinking about it, I kinda think that he’d be really gentle and caring 💕

[thewritterdead]

Hey um sorry to bother you but I love your work and I was wondering if you could maybe do a carl x reader smut were the reader and carl are on a run and the reader is teasing him the whole time until he can't take it and needs her as soon as possible and he's really dominant (sorry that was long)

You don’t bother me at all, and thank you! Sure, I’ll write it soon 💕

[thewritterdead]

Hi! I am in lOVE with your imagines! Could I request one? Can you do one where the reader is like 16 years old and is Ricks daughter? And like, one day, her and her best friend are out scavenging and that's when they meet Aaron and Rick gets sUPER over protective towards the reader and her bff?

Hi, thank you! That’s so cute, of course! 💕

[thewritterdead]

Would you mind writing a daryl/reader based on the song 'Take Me To Church' by Hozier?

I don’t mind, I’ll write it soon! That song was like my jam in 2014 lmao 💕

[thewritterdead]

Hey, everyone! I’m back, and I’m sorry for disappearing for so long. I got accepted in the college I wanted so I’ve been busy moving out and moving in. I wrote some stuff while I was off, so I’ll be posting that, and I’ll also be working on the new requests I got! I also wanted to thank you because there are now 3k people in this blog!!! Wow, when I made this blog I never thought there would be 3k people actually reading the shit I write! So thank you so much, I love you! 💕

[thewritterdead]

Hi! I was wandering if you could possibly write a Daryl imagine based off of the song Black by Dierks Bentley?! Thank you so much if you can! Hope you have a great day!

Hi! Sure, and I hope you're having a great day as well! 💕

[thewritterdead]

Nothing in common.

Can you please do a Daryl x Reader imagine? They’ve been close friends since the beginning but once they get to Alexandria they start falling apart. They find out that they have nothing in common (he like rock/she likes hiphop, he likes horror/she likes comedy etc.) and that she has more in common with Spencer who she starts getting close to. This makes Daryl really jealous and protective of her and maybe it ends in smut if you’re down for it? I love this blog :)

It’s smut, and I don’t know why it turned out super long, but I hope you like it! 💕

Daryl has been your friend since the beginning, you became close when you thought you had a lot in common: two strong people who always tried to ensure the group’s safety even if they often preferred to be alone, but once you arrived to the new community, you realised that that was pretty much all you had in common.

They gave you two houses, and being the cautious, suspicious people you are, Daryl and you went inside before anyone else to examine them.

You open one of the drawers under the television and find a collection of DVDs.

“Look, they got movies”, you tell Daryl as you crouch to check what they have.

“Look”, you chuckle as you go through lines and lines of movies packed together. You grab a few of them and read the titles out loud for Daryl to hear. “They got Ghostbusters, The Philadelphia Story, Tootsie…”

A chuckle lingers in your lips as you take your eyes off the DVDs, only to find Daryl shifting his eyes between you and the movies you had in your hand.

“What’s that?”, he asks as he furrows his brow.

“Comedy films”, you tell him. “They’re classics!”

“Never seen ‘em”, he says and goes to the drawer where you found them.

“They’re good”, you say, but you see him shake his head.

“I don’t think so, I never liked comedy.”

He takes boxes of DVDs and pushes them away until he finds a couple of them that he likes.

“Psycho, Evil Dead”, he shows you the films he found. “Those are good movies.”

“I’d never see them”, you tell him while shaking your head and pretending that a shiver went down your spine. “Too scary.”

“Really?”, he raises an eyebrow; he thinks is ironic that those movies scare you, even now, after living worse things that they show on screens.

“Yeah”, you roll your eyes. “I’ve hated those movies even before this happened.”

Neither of you talk about it again, instead, you go upstairs to check the bedrooms.

You go inside one of the rooms; the walls are white, and all the lamps are off, so the blushing light of sunset that enters gives you a pale pink vibe. You search the drawers, and again find something interesting. There’s a pile of CDs, fewer than the amount of DVDs you found earlier, but you like what you see.

You always liked hip hop, and you surely would enjoy some alone time, listening to the music you’ve been longing to hear and relaxing for a moment. But then you shake your head and put the CDs back where you found them, you could’t relax now that you were in a foreign town, surrounded by strangers.

“Hey, (Y/N)”, you hear Daryl’s voice. He’s climbing down from the attic and he has something in his hands.

“What?”

“Check this out”, he found CDs as well, and he parades them to you. “Motorhead, Sonic Youth… Slayer! Damn, this shit’s good.”

“What?”, you repeat, but with a more confused tone.

“Music”, he says gruffly and shows you the CDs again, as if it should be obvious to you that that’s the kind of music that he likes.

“Oh, sure”, you nod along. “Let’s take a look at the other house.”

.

The whole group spends the night together at the living room of one of the houses, it does’t matter how nice the people acted or how widely their smiles spread over their mouths, it was better to stick together, at least the first night there.

Daryl leans on a window, resting his head but keeping his eyes open. He’s looking outside, guarding the place. His beautiful blue eyes are shining as he squints them and his hair is sticking to his face with sweat and dirt, he’s the only one who didn’t run to the bathroom and took a shower as soon as you arrived to Alexandria, but you still think he looks handsome. You smile to yourself as you watch him from the floor, you just found out you have nothing in common as you used to think, but he’s still your best friend and you love him.

Daryl didn’t sleep that night, but you did. When you wake up, you find everyone placing their pillows on the couch, above the pile of blankets they already folded. You get up immediately and do the same with your blanket.

Daryl didn’t get a job yesterday, but you did, so you take a quick shower and put on the clothes that a lady gave you before getting out of the house and walking to your new workplace: Deanna’s house. She saw something in you that she didn’t see in anyone else, and she wanted you to work with her and help her run the community.

You knock on her door and after waiting for a few seconds, someone opens the door. It’s not Deanna, though; it’s a tall man, with light brown hair that twists on his head in loose curls.

“Hey”, he greets, his brown eyes set on your face. “You’re (Y/N), right?”

“Yeah, that’s me”, you say and smile back to him.

“Great. My mom told me you’d come”, he steps aside and pulls the door with him, so you know you can go inside. “Come in.”

“Thanks”, you say and walk inside with him.

“She’s in her office”, he leads you down the hall. “I’m Spencer, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you”, you smile again, and he does too. He stops right in front of a door and knocks on it, and after a female voice says ‘come in’, he opens it.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, now that you’ll be working with my mom”, he says with a grin.

“I’m sure.”

“See you around, (Y/N)”, he smiles one last time and walks away. You step into the office and greet Deanna, she tells you to take a seat around the desk she’s been working on and talks to you about the plans of expansion she’s been thinking about. You listen carefully, and for the rest of the day, you try to do your job without thinking of her son’s cute smile.

Deanna finally lets you go, it’s been a long day but you enjoyed it, it’s a little more fun than killing walkers and having dark blood splattered all over you. Before you walk out of the house, you’re interrupted by Spencer.

“Hey”, he stands beside the door and leans casually on the wall. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I left some movies on one of your houses.”

“Oh, yeah”, you remember, they’re in the house that you’re not occupying yet.

“Do you think I could go get them?”, he asks. “Some of my favourites are there, and I’d like to watch them tonight.”

“Sure”, you say and open the door. “Let’s go.”

When you arrive to the house that you’ve left unoccupied, he goes to the drawers under the TV and grabs a bunch of movies. When he has what he needs, he closes the drawer and walks back to the door.

“Thanks for letting me come here”, he smiles, and you take a look at the films he took. He has some interesting titles there, some of your favourites too.  

“No problem”, you answer without taking your eyes off of the DVDs he’s got there. “You like The Big Lebowski?

“You’re kidding? It’s one my favourite movies, I love it!”

“I love it too”, you raise your eyebrows in surprise and giggle a little.

“Do you want to—”, he vaguely points back to his house. “Do you want to watch it with me?”

“I’d love to”, you say, with the obvious blank left for a ‘but’. “But I don’t think my group would be okay with that.”

“Of course”, he nods in understanding. “That’s okay, we can watch it some other time.”

“Sure, that would be awesome”, you press your lips together in a smile, and he leaves.

Then, you leave to and walk towards the other house. Daryl sees you getting out of the house, and he also saw how Spencer walked out of there a few seconds before you. He frowns and watches you as you walk up the porch steps.

“Hi”, you say joyfully, happy to see him after a long day without him.

“Hey”, he answers gruffly, with his rough voice. You think it’s strange that he talks to you like that, you’ve heard him speak with that voice to the people he distrusts or doesn’t know as well as he knows you; but you don’t linger on it, and you go inside the house.

As you’re having dinner with the rest of the group, Rick asks all of you how was your day. A couple of chuckles are heard around the table; those words put together have lost their meaning with time, and it’s strange —even a little funny— hearing them after so long.

“It was okay”, Tara answers.

“But Aiden is an idiot”, Glenn mutters, and Maggie pats his back softly.

“What about you, (Y/N)?”, Rick sets his eyes on you as he drives the fork to his mouth.

“It was good, I liked working with Deanna”, you say and Rick nods, pleased with your answer.

“You made any friends?”, Daryl asks abruptly, and everyone take their eyes from their plates and fixed them on him.

“Uh, well, Deanna is very nice”, you tell him. “But I don’t think I’d call her my friend just yet.”

He keeps his stare on you, but doesn’t say anything else. Everyone go back to their plates, and keep eating their dinner.

.

As you arrived to Deanna’s house, you found a van parked in the middle of the street. Glenn, Tara and Noah are there, packing supplies in the back and preparing their guns. You greet them, but before you can go into the house, you see that Spencer is there as well.

“Hey”, his voice is raspy but you find it sexy.

“Hi”, you smile. “Where are you going?” “Nicholas got hurt in the last run, so Aiden asked me to replace him today.”

You nod. “Be careful.”

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing”, he gives you a flirty grin and leans on the truck, flexing his arm.

You laugh, a little flirty laugh and almost innocently bite your lower lip. Daryl can see you from one of the houses; he’s sitting on the porch, with his fists clenched and his blood boiling. He hates seeing you with Spencer, and the flirty looks you exchanged with him are like daggers to his chest. He has never felt that way before, but it’s so frustrating to him, that he feels like he wants to kill Spencer.

.

Days go by, and Daryl has spent them in the house because Deanna hasn’t give him a job yet. You are in your room, trying to relax by laying on your bed with your feet up while you’re reading a book you took from Deanna’s library.

Someone knocks on the door, but you don’t pay attention to it, Daryl spends most of the day sitting on the porch, taking care of his crossbow.

“What do you want?”, he asks violently as Spencer stands before the door.

“Hi, I’m Spencer”, he introduces himself and extends his hand, but Daryl doesn’t even look at it.

“What do you want?”, he repeats.

“Is (Y/N) home?”, Spencer asks, and Daryl feels like he could easily shoot an arrow through his head.

“Why?”

“My mom told me it’s her day off”, he says. “And I was wondering if she wanted to come to my house, and watch a movie or something.”

“She doesn’t”, Daryl says bluntly. Spencer frowns and scoffed lowly.

“I think I’d rather talk to her.”

“I think you better get the fuck out of here.”

“Listen, man—”, Spencer was about to say something to defend himself, but Daryl didn’t let him.

“No, you listen, go away before I put an arrow in your skull”, he threatens with his crossbow in hand. Spencer looks defiantly at him, but decides to leave anyway.

Daryl puts his crossbow in the floor; he doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, he just threatened to kill a man just because he wanted to talk to you. He blames it on the pressure of being confined in those houses, or maybe it’s being under the constant looks of dozens of strangers, but he also feels that it’s about you.

A week after his little encounter with Spencer, Daryl founds you talking to him again. You’re on the sidewalk, just talking, but Spencer is too close to you. Daryl sees how you laugh at something he said and you bump his chest playfully. This enrages him, he feels anger building up in his stomach and he feels like his head is going to explode. He stomps his way towards you and once he’s there, grabs Spencer by the collar of his shirt and throws him to the ground.

“Daryl, what the fuck?!”, you yell at him, but he isn’t listening.

He starts punching Spencer in the face, over and over again.

“Daryl, stop!”, you yell again and try to pull him off of Spencer by his shoulders, but he firmly keeps himself on him.

Spencer gives him a strong punch to the jaw, which makes Daryl fall to the ground; Spencer gets on his feet and kicks Daryl in the ribs before he can stand up.

“Stop!”, you scream desperately at Spencer. You didn’t like to see Daryl beating Spencer, but you hated seeing Spencer so much as laying a hand on Daryl.

Spencer gets on his knees over Daryl and punches him in the face like he did.

“Get off of him!”, you tell Spencer and pull him off of Daryl. He falls on his butt and looks up at you.

“He started it!”, he points at Daryl. You don’t say anything, instead, you help Daryl get off the ground, but as soon as he does, he tries to run back to Spencer, who backs away immediately.

You take Daryl back to the house and grab the first aid kit. You make him sit on the couch and let you clean his wounds.

As you pour water on his face, he pulls back and hisses, but you keep his head in place.

“Why did you do that?”, you ask him calmly, but he can hear the anger in your voice. But rather than angry, you’re disappointed in him; you were trying to show those people that you weren’t savages, that you could live in harmony with them, but Daryl did exactly the opposite.

“He hit me too!”, he yells at you.

“You attacked him, I was there!”, you yell back.

“Yeah, but…”, he makes a pause. “It’s your fault!”

“You’re the one flirting with him and all that shit!”, he says angrily.

“So?”, you arch an eyebrow as you put a bandaid on the wound on his forehead, and another on the one on his left cheek.

“He’s an asshole, you don’t deserve someone like him”, he says in a more tranquil tone, which makes you think that he’s not quite telling you the truth.

“You wanna know what I think?”, you sit next to him on the couch. “I think you’re jealous.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”, he grimaces. “I’m not.”

“Oh, please!”, you laugh. “You’re not jealous? Not even a little bit?”

“No”, he says and pretends to be disgusted by the thought of it.

“So you’re not jealous that I talk to Spencer?”, you ask, and he shakes his head. “Or that I touch his hair, his arm, his chest?”

You ghost your fingers over his arm, and he swallows hard. “No”, he answers hoarsely.

“You’re not jealous that I’ve kissed him, touched his mouth with my tongue?”, you softly graze his ear with the tip of your tongue. You’re lying, but Daryl doesn’t know that. You hear him breathing heavily, but his answer is the same. “And that I’ve been in his room, naked?”

You bite your lip seductively, and Daryl’s chest heaves with his rough inhalations. You take your hand from his arm to his stomach, and slowly move your fingers downward.

“Daryl”, you say his name in a hot murmur. “You’re not jealous that I fucked him?”

He pushes you on the couch so you’re laying on your back. He’s looking down at you and breathing so heavily above you that you feel his chest touch yours when he inhales.

You part your lips and give him a grin. “So you’re not jealous?”

Daryl doesn’t answer, he knows there’s no need to anymore. He kisses you roughly, but he pulls away almost immediately to take off your clothes. He remembers how you told him that you’ve been naked in Spencer’s room, and it just makes him angrier. He rips your shirt off and pulls your jeans down too violently, almost painfully. You would care if you weren’t as turned on as you are now; you’re not sure if you loved Daryl as something more than a friend, but you’re sure you want him now.

You take his shirt and pull it over his head, then you throw it away. You struggle with the button of his pants, your fingers are shaking and goosebumps coat your body. He unclasps it and pulls his pants down along with his underwear.

You spread your legs and Daryl kneels between them, he grabs your ankles and pull you closer, then he throws your legs over him and you wrap them around his waist. As soon as his member touches you over your underwear, you moan and feel your chest jump with a sharp breath.

Daryl tears your wet panties apart with a savage rip of the delicate fabric, and thrusted into you. A gasp and a moan mingled in your throat when you felt him entering you so roughly. You hear him grunting, and gaze up at him. He’s looking at you, his fierce look is locked on yours as he rams himself into you. Your breathing is fast and heavy, and you arch your back as a moan leaves your lips.

Daryl goes harder and harder, he’s been so angry and frustrated that he wants to take it all out on you, to show you that you don’t need anyone else but him to make you moan. You throw your arms around his neck and pull his head down, you kiss him and run your fingers through his hair, as your tongue delves his mouth.

He thrusts harder and you whimper, falling back to the couch. His hair is trapped in sweat as he groans and pants above you, still looking at you.

Your body shudders, tenses and strains under his, feeling a shiver running down your spine and stomach and legs. You buck your hips and let them fall back on the couch as you moan loudly, but Daryl keeps going for a few more seconds until he reaches his climax after yours.

Daryl grunts and throws himself back, leaning his back on the armrest of the couch, and watching you. You’re struggling for breath and your eyes are closed, but you have a wide smile of satisfaction on your face. He smirks as he realises what just happened, and it wasn’t Spencer who made you moan, and pant, and whimper. It was him, only him.

[thewritterdead]

I was watching Sky High with my sister, and I remembered I had a HUUUUUGE crush on Warren Peace like 6 years ago (when I first watched that movie) but I think I'm still in love with him. I need fanfic of him💕